Рейчел Уэллс - A Friend Called Alfie

‘Aye, son, I’ve missed that.’ I felt quite emotional, as we headed out.

It was a clear day, cold but dry, as we headed towards the restaurant. I hoped we might get to see Franceska too, with the whole Pickles arrival I had been at home far more than usual and hadn’t been out to see anyone as much. And although she had been to ours, since Harold having gone into hospital, I missed her. The adults had drawn up a roster of visiting Harold. Marcus went every evening, and in the afternoon when he could juggle work, Sylvie joined him in the evenings, taking Connie sometimes. Claire would go in the afternoon before the school run. Franceska would take over from her, while she went to get the children. Jonathan, Matt, Tomasz and Polly would all pop in after work just to show their faces.

Harold said he had the most visitors out of everyone, according to Claire. He was proud of this fact. Everyone wanted him to know he was loved, so although not everyone visited him every day, they visited a fair bit. Which only served to annoy George even more, as he felt he was the only one who didn’t get to see Harold. Apart from the children and me. They didn’t go because Claire said it would be too disruptive to the other patients, goodness, imagine if George or Pickles were allowed to visit in that case!

We set off. I did feel a little guilty about abandoning Pickles, but I had done a fair bit of puppy-sitting lately, and I seemed to get told off for every little thing he did wrong. Not only for the car business, but also when he dug up some flowers in Claire’s garden, chewed one of Toby’s trainers, buried one of Summer’s dolls in the garden, ate something he shouldn’t. The list went on, and I felt a little bit offended that it was all my fault. After all, puppy sitting was much harder than even I imagined. Harder even than when George was a kitten if my memory serves. I think I had earned an hour or two off. In reality, I’d probably earned a two week holiday, but that wasn’t going to happen.

‘You know I do like Pickles a bit,’ George said magnanimously. ‘But I also miss it being just us.’

‘I do too, things change so much, don’t they, maybe we should make sure we make time for each other,’ I suggested.

‘Yes, but I better warn you,’ George said as we trod the familiar path to Dustbin, ‘I am going to be very busy soon because I am close to finding my job.’

I raised my whiskers in surprise. ‘Really? What is it?’

‘Oh that I don’t exactly know, but you have to trust me when I say that I am going to be very good at it.’

‘I do trust you.’ I really didn’t. I worried about him, especially when I had no idea what he was going to be doing. Although to be fair, I wasn’t sure he did either.

‘Good, because you need to be able to give me some space to follow my dreams.’

‘Eh?’I was confused, and had no idea what he was talking about.

‘Thanks, Dad.’

‘You’re welcome, son.’

Thankfully our difficult conversation came to an end as we reached the restaurant.

We bumped into Franceska and Tomasz, as we padded through to the back of the restaurant.

‘Ah, we haven’t seen you here for a long time,’ Tomasz said, fussing us both as he usually did.

‘Alfie, George, I will get you some treats,’ Franceska said. I rubbed against her legs in thanks.

‘I have to go now, but it was nice to see you,’ Tomasz said, before he took off, swinging his car keys. We waited by the back door of the restaurant for Franceska to bring out some sardines which we both enjoyed very much. After polishing them off, we made our way to the bins to find our friend.

‘Hello, what a nice surprise,’ Dustbin said. I had to say I needed a bit of a double take. He looked a bit different. His fur was neater and shinier, and he was smiling in a way I hadn’t seen before. Ally appeared from behind him. Ah, now that made sense. He was making more of an effort with his appearance now he was in love. That was sweet.

‘Oh it’s like a girl Dustbin,’ George said before he could stop himself. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean … Well, I did mean … I mean …’

‘I think George was going to say that you and Dustbin are obviously similar in some ways, your job mainly, but he didn’t mean any offence by it,’ I explained.

‘None taken. Nice to meet you, George, I’ve heard all about you. And Alfie, lovely to see you again.’

‘Wow, it’s really nice to meet you too,’ George said. ‘Are you as good at hunting as Dustbin?’

‘I am,’ Ally said.

‘She really is,’ Dustbin added proudly.

‘Show me, show me!’ George begged. George bounded after Ally, I hoped his career wouldn’t take him in the direction of her and Dustbin, I didn’t really have the stomach for that, but then I knew I would have to support him if that was what he decided.

‘I heard them talking about Harold, how’s the lad coping?’ Dustbin asked when we were alone.

‘It’s hard for him, you know, but Harold is on the mend. He just seems to be so upset that he can’t visit him.’

‘Of course, after everything he’s been through … but even I know cats aren’t allowed in hospitals, so he’s just going to have to be patient – excuse the pun – poor thing.’

‘You know George isn’t known for his patience, Dustbin. Anyway, how are you and Ally?’

‘Yeah, good. I like her.’

For Dustbin, a cat of few words, and certainly fewer emotional outbursts, this was like a huge admission.

‘Then I’m happy for you.’ I grinned. ‘They say love makes the world go round after all.’

‘Stop with all that soppy stuff,’ he grumbled, but I could see that he was smiling underneath it all. We had a lovely time in the yard. After Ally finished showing George her hunting skills, we all found a rare sunny patch to sit in and have a catch-up. As winter had officially announced its arrival we knew we were lucky to find it.

‘I just want to be able to find my purpose in life,’ George reiterated.

‘Not catching rodents then?’ Ally asked.

‘No, I don’t feel that it’s best suited to my aptitude,’ George said. I had no idea where he was getting this from, but I guessed it was Aleksy and Connie. ‘You see, in order to find my cat calling I need to get the sense it’s one hundred per cent right for me.’

‘I can see that,’ Dustbin said, humouring him. ‘And to start with, what do you think your best skill is?’

I watched George as he thought about it, whiskers raised, seriously. He looked about him, and then at me.

‘I think my best skill is making people happy,’ he said. Well, he did do that, that was true.

‘In that case, you need to find a job where you make people happy,’ Ally said.

‘But what job involves that?’ I asked.

‘That’s what we need to find out,’ Dustbin said.

‘No, I know it.’ George suddenly sprang up. ‘I know it. Thanks, Dustbin, Ally, you’ve really helped.’

‘What is it?’ I asked, being caught up in his excitement but also confused.

‘I can’t tell you that it’ll take a bit of working out, but trust me, I think I have finally found my purpose in life.’

Should I be worried that he wouldn’t share it with me? Probably, but I would just have to wait and see. And hope that it was nothing that could get him into trouble. What was I even saying? Of course, it would be something which got him into trouble. And probably get me into trouble too.

As soon as we slid through the cat flap, Pickles appeared and waddled up to us. In the few weeks he’d been here, he had got a bit bigger. Or wider, although he still could get through the cat flap, but I wasn’t sure he would be able to for much longer. That might make life easier.